Owner of a Broken Heart
by starrytearss
Summary: Neela-centric after "Age of Innocence". Ray/Neela mentions. Neela/Dubenko friendship. I'm gonna let him fly...Edited title.
1. Let Him Fly

_Disclaimer: All properties of ER belong to NBC and Warner Bros. This piece is dedicated to Michael Crichton, who left us this past month. Rest in Peace, and may God bless your soul._

_A/N: My account's working again. I'm ecstatic about that. Here's my first attempt at Neela angst with a lot of conversation. So it might be a little OOC. Apologies in advance. _

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Neela rushed to the surgeons' lounge after her shift was finally over. God, this was a day from _hell_. She walked over and sat down on the sofa, perching her elbows on her knees and resting her face in her hands. That lump began to suffocate her airways again, her stomach was tying in knots, and she could feel the bile rise in her throat. Tears pooled in her eyes, and for the first time that day, she let them fall.

_How could I have been so stupid to even think that Ray came back because he wanted to be with me? How could I have assumed that he still wanted me after all these years? That he wouldn't find somebody better…someone who didn't remind him of… How could I even think that he still loved me? I was an idiot. A fool. _

Sobs escaped her throat as her mind rushed with thoughts. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her mocha skin glowing in the orange lighting in the lounge. She bit her thumbs, pursing her lips tightly around them.

Then it dawned on her. The reason he came back. It wasn't to see if they had a future.

No.

It was for him to gain a sense of closure, so he could move on with his life. And move on, he did.

_Ray has a girlfriend…_

Tears flowed from her eyes as she cried into her hands. It was hard to breathe. She couldn't think. Couldn't feel. She couldn't get his image out of her head. He _moved _on….without her.

She was crying so hard that she didn't notice Lucien walking in.

His eyes fell on his beloved colleague. His heart broke for her. He rested his coffee cup that he was holding onto the counter beside him, and rushed to Neela's feet, crouching in front of her. He rested his hands on her knees.

"Neela, honey, what's wrong?"

Neela didn't move her head. She continued to sob. "Oh, Lucien…" she cried.

"I'm here, I'm here" he whispered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "What happened? If it's about what happened downstairs--"

"No. It's got _nothing_ to do with that" her head shot up and she met Lucien's gaze. Her eyes were red, dry, and swollen. They stung. Her cheeks burned from the running mascara. He ran a hand to her cheek and stroked it. He reached behind him and plucked a tissue from the box, handing it to her. She wiped her eyes with it, clutching the Kleenex in her hands, her head lowered. She felt so childish. "I'm sorry, Lucien…"

"No…don't be. What happened? What's wrong?"

She sniffled deeply, her breathing was slow. Tears fell from her eyes again. "Ray."

Lucien cocked his head sideways. "I thought you two were—"

"So did I," she cut him off. She couldn't bear to hear those words. "But then I found out he moved on to someone else."

Anger burned in her mentor's eyes. "What the _fuck_?" Neela's head shot up at the last word. Lucien never cussed. She simply nodded.

"Yeah," she licked her lips slightly, sniffling. Tears pooled in her eyes again. "Some girl he just met at a gym. He's going with her to Georgia for Thanksgiving."

"You're shitting me."

She shook her head. "No."

Lucien stood up abruptly. "He hasn't changed at all, has he?" hatred dripped from his words. Neela's eyes traveled to his.

"Lucien…"

"No, Neela. Don't even think about defending him." He ran a hand through his hair and began pacing around the room. "So, let me get this straight. He comes back from being away from you for a year and ignites hope inside you that you two had a future. Then he _leaves_ and jumps the first girl he meets?"

It was Neela's turn to stand. "Lucien! That's not…" she trailed off. He was right, wasn't he?

The room was silent for a moment. Then Neela cleared her throat. "He deserves to move on. He deserves better than I have to offer…so…"

"Stop it, Neela. That's bullshit, and you know it," he scolded.

"Well it's the truth isn't it?!" she yelled. "He deserves better than someone who reminds him of how he got hurt in the first place! _I _nearly killed him. I jerked him around for years. He deserves better than that! Hell, he couldn't even spend ONE night with me when he came back. What does that tell you? He stopped loving me a long time ago."

"No—"

"Damn it, Lucien. I _love _him. _So _much. And more than anything, I want him to be happy. And he obviously can't be happy with me. So I _have_ to let him go. I _need_ to let him go and be happy. And it _kills _me inside that I lost my chance with him, because he's the **only** man I'll ever love. It _kills _me. But I deserve it."

"You don't really believe that, do you?"

"I do. I have to. I want him to be happy—"

"And damn with what _you _want?"

"Yes. I've been selfish enough these last three years. The tables have turned now. I can't be what he deserves. There's just too much history. I've caused him too much pain. He deserves something better."

There was dead silence in the room before she spoke again. "I need to get home. I'm bloody exhausted and I need a shower." She made her way to her locker and retrieved her things. When she slammed it shut and spun around, Lucien grabbed hold of her gently.

"I know what you're doing Neela. You're trying to convince yourself of all this. Defense mechanisms. But I can see past that. Your heart's breaking. You want him. You love him."

Tears spilled from her eyelids. Lucien wiped them away with his thumbs.

"If Barnett thinks he can do better than you, Neela, he must have lost _a lot _more than just his legs that night. There is no one better."

Neela continued to cry as Lucien kissed her forehead. "I'll let you get home. But you call me if you need anything, ok?"

She nodded, and Lucien pulled her into his arms.

"You're gonna be alright. I promise you that."

Neela breathed deeply. "Thank you Lucien," she stepped out of his embrace and mustered a sad smile as she pulled her bag over her shoulder, exited the lounge, and left the hospital.

_Things can move at such a pace  
The second hand just waved goodbye  
You know the light has left his face  
But you can't recall just where or why  
So there was really nothing to it  
I just went and cut right through it  
I said I'm gonna let him fly…_

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Let me know what you think : )


	2. Whiskey Lullaby

_A/N: Thank you all for your reviews and constructive criticism. Here's chapter two. Hope I didn't disappoint. _

_Nothing belongs to me._

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_She put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger; and finally drank away his memory._

She turned her key in the knob and pushed the jammed door to her apartment open. She threw her keys and purse onto the end table beside her before slamming her door shut. She ran a hand to scrub her face, pinching her nose, and breathing heavily through it.

She raised her head to the ceiling and closed her eyes. "Oh, God."

Her voice was shaky, quiet.

She found herself craving that drink that she'd often poured herself while Ray was gone for the first year. It never ended well. But it numbed the pain. Numbed her thoughts. Numbed her breaking heart. Damning the consequences, she strode to her refrigerator, and pulled the freezer's door open.

Whiskey.

She reached into the very back where the bottle was hidden. Frozen.

She unscrewed the resisting cap, reached over to the cupboard and pulled out a small glass, filling it with whiskey to the very top.

She took in a heavy breath with the glass beneath her nose, the whiskey's scent tickling the hairs there.

She gently placed the bottle back into the freezer, took her glass, and sat down on the sofa.

She took a large swig of the hard liquor. It burned down her throat at first, but she could already feel the numbing effects. She breathed a sigh of relief.

It seemed that whiskey was the only thing that didn't let her down these days. She silently thanked the whiskey brewers as she took another drink.

It was a matter of minuets before her glass was empty, and so she retreated back to the freezer, and carried the bottle in her hands, not caring how cold the bottle was. She sat it down on the coffee table in front of the couch as she sat down again.

Unbeknownst to her, tears pooled in her eyes again, falling from her tired lids. She didn't care. She didn't _fucking_ care.

She grabbed the bottle and cradled it in her lap, like a child would with his favorite teddy bear. She unscrewed the cap and took a large swig. Again, she could feel the whiskey beginning to slowly numb her world. Perfect.

Perhaps the tears flowed unconsciously. But they did. And she let them. She was alone, in this dimly lit apartment. Who would care, anyway?

With another swig from the bottle, her eyes fell for the first time to a framed photograph that stood on the table in front of her. For a moment, pain pinged at her heart. She felt nauseous, and she did all day when she thought of him. The photo was relatively old, probably two years or so. Him and her. Hugging and drinking champagne. Smiling.

She reached for the picture, and removed it from the frame. She held it in her free hand for a moment, the other one still cradling the bottle. She brought the picture to her heart, clinging to it for dear life.

This time, racking sobs escaped her body as she hugged the photograph. She brought her knees to her chest, and she cried hysterically.

Through her trembling lips, she drank from the bottle, this time at a faster pace in between swigs. She _needed _the numbing to kick in. Faster. She couldn't deal with this anymore.

_Ray has a girlfriend._

Perhaps she was overreacting. Like a schoolgirl who found out a boy didn't like her the way she liked him.

But Neela didn't _like _Ray. She _loved _him. That's a whole different league, isn't it?

She pushed away the thought of justifying her emotions. Who was anyone to judge?

Another swig. Another sob. Another swig. Another cry.

What did she expect? That he would drop everything and all the progress he made and pick up where they left off? That Ray would want her just as much as he did before he left? Who was she kidding?

She didn't deserve him. He deserved someone new. A new chapter in his life. And a new chapter he began.

While she lay curled up on the couch, drinking her pain away with whiskey.

She deserved this. Whiskey was as good as she would ever get.

There was a vibrating noise in the silent apartment. It was her cell phone. She didn't flinch. Didn't care. She couldn't talk. Not tonight.

Instead, she sipped the whiskey again, hugging it to her chest. She buried her face into the small pillow at the arm of the couch, tears soaking it as she sobbed.

She drank away the pain as the night drew on, finally passing out somewhere between the final drops of whiskey in the bottle, the picture still clinging to her chest.

_We found her with her face down in the pillow; clinging to his picture for dear life._

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R&R, let me know what you think.


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